Broken and Beautiful

by Ryan, Kendall

  “Rudolph is out.”

  “Congratulations.” Barron’s interest in this senate race was multi-faceted. The incumbent was in his back pocket, so that was a win. But he also made good money for facilitating the deal we’d cut with Rudolph’s aide. Fucker should have been more discreet about taking bribes.

  “Don’t sound so excited. Have you ever smiled, man?”

  “This is me grinning,” I returned stoically.

  “Your mouth is fucking turned down right now, but I’m happy enough for the both of us.”

  “Good work.”

  “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you didn’t mean it.”

  “I won’t say it twice.”

  I hung up before he could come up with another smart-ass remark. “Time” by Pink Floyd came on the stereo, a reminder I didn’t need. I was running out of it.

  Once I got back to my building, I stopped by Muriella’s before going upstairs.

  “Muriella,” I called after letting myself in.

  “Daniel?” She appeared from the kitchen as I set my briefcase down in the foyer. “Date go bad?”

  My lips parted at her sarcasm. I was used to it when it was playful, but this was a jab. “I wasn’t on a date. But had I been, then yes, it went very badly.”

  “Hmph.” She turned her back, leaving me on my own in the hallway.

  I followed her into the kitchen. “You’re still mad at me?”

  “I’m going to be for a while.” She picked up her phone off the counter and fiddled with it as if I wasn’t even there.

  “Muriella…” I started, grasping for some sort of explanation that would make her understand.

  “Don’t bother. I have no desire to hear a string of lame excuses for why you’re doing this.”

  “Good, because I don’t feel like coming up with any,” I snapped. She folded her arms, and I let out a frustrated breath.

  “Dinner’s almost ready,” she said. The woman amazed me. She was mad as all hell at me, yet she could set that aside to take care of me.

  “You don’t have to do that.” I softened my tone.

  “I’ll be upstairs shortly.” Her way of telling me to get out of her kitchen.

  I grabbed my briefcase on my way out, taking the stairs up to the apartment. Dread filled me as I unlocked the front door and stepped inside. I hated coming home to an empty place. No, that wasn’t true. If the apartment had been filled to capacity, it would have felt no different. What I hated was coming home to no Vivian. It was a thousand times more painful than I’d ever anticipated, and I’d known it was going to hurt like a motherfucker. I nearly turned around and went back downstairs. On more than one occasion, I’d almost asked Muriella if I could stay with her. But that would have blown my cover.

  I shucked off my suit jacket and tie, then loosened the top few buttons of my shirt before settling into the chair behind my desk. There was work to do, fires to put out, but I could hardly concentrate. It was by a sheer force of will that I made a few calls I’d put off. I was just wrapping one up when the red light on the security system lit up. Dinner was here.

  When I lifted my eyes to the doorway, I thought I was hallucinating. I’d pictured this so many times over the last few days, I struggled to know if it was real or an illusion.

  “Vivian.” It came out sounding hoarse, desperate. Not at all what I’d intended.

  She watched me for a moment from the doorway, and she saw everything. It was in the confident way her eyes assessed, like she could see in my soul how much I fucking missed her. She didn’t bother to hide her feelings either. I knew the woman better than I knew myself. She was coming through the other side of hell, standing straighter than she had earlier in the day, a bit of that spark back in those eyes I loved to get lost in.

  She had on the damned ballet shoes, the old jeans and sweatshirt that was just plain torture, revealing one shoulder, no bra strap. I gripped the arms of my chair to keep from charging her and licking that line from her shoulder all the way to her neck. Fuck me, that neck. It needed my mark, to show the world she was taken, to remind it and her who she belonged to.

  She showed no hesitation as she moved toward me, came around the desk, and parked her gorgeous ass on the edge of it. I sucked in a breath and held it. She smelled delicious. She smelled like home.

  Fighting an urge to bury my nose in her hair and inhale the sweetness, I remained cold, going so far as to glare at her with a how dare you enter my space without invitation stare. Typical Vivian, she was unmoved and even less intimidated.

  “I’m not letting you leave me.”

  That was what I’d expected from the outset. A fight. Her steely determination. Pride that she was going to fight for me warred with my need for her to just let things be.

  “That’s something the two of us would need to agree on. Which we won’t,” I returned, keeping my voice devoid of any emotion.

  “Breaking up should have been that way too. You took it upon yourself to make the decision without me,” she pointed out, and my jaw clenched. I braced myself for the fight she had decided we were going to have.

  “It’s for the best.”

  She reined in her temper. “I know why you’re doing this.”

  Panic struck me. How could she know? “Then you understand why it has to be this way,” I said, keeping my voice controlled and even.

  She reached for my hand, her touch more than I could bear, yet I couldn’t withdraw my fingers from hers. I didn’t want to. This was the first time in days I’d felt whole.

  “I saw the autopsy report,” she said softly, kindness and understanding in her eyes. Autopsy report? What was she talking about?

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  I hated the sympathy in her expression, as if she thought I was playing coy. I wasn’t. I literally couldn’t think of what she could possibly mean. What would an autopsy report have to do with the two of us breaking up?

  “Your father,” she clarified, and I flinched. Any time I thought of him I had a physical reaction.

  “What exactly did you see in that report, Vivian?” I asked, my tone demanding that she start explaining despite that I felt like I was being tossed about in a rough sea.

  “The official cause of his death was suicide,” she began. “But every bone in his body was shattered. There were handprints around his neck under the rope.”

  I shot out of my seat. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  She recoiled. “He was murdered,” she said quietly. “You’re protecting me from that.”

  “Do you know that for certain?” My reaction was vicious, but so much rage and confusion was spewing through my veins, I could barely think straight, much less process her words. Murdered?

  Vivian paled, her confidence gone. “No. But it’s the only thing that makes sense.” And then I fully registered what she’d said. She thought I was protecting her from this knowledge…which meant she thought I had killed my father. And she still wanted me back? That realization took the anger right out of me. I looked at her in disbelief.

  “And you wouldn’t care if I’d taken someone’s life?”

  Her black hair flew as she shook her head. “I only care how it affects you now.” I didn’t know what to do with that. Hope filled her eyes. “So we don’t have to be apart. Whatever happened doesn’t matter.”

  She might as well have struck me. “You don’t mean that,” I said, imploring her not to.

  Vivian lifted her chin. “Of course I do.”

  I squeezed her shoulders. “Let this go. I mean it.”

  Her head tilted. “But the report.”

  “Whatever it said is irrelevant,” I stated firmly.

  She narrowed her gaze on me, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. “You didn’t know he was murdered,” she concluded.

  “I said leave it, Vivian.”

  “So that isn’t why you left me?” At the realization, she deflated.

  I couldn’t force
any words past my lips.

  Desperation filled her eyes. “Let me show you. It’s in the closet.” She moved, but I halted her with a look. Now I knew exactly where she’d seen the report.

  “I destroyed the file yesterday.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why?”

  “The file had no place in my life anymore, so I shredded it.” I looked at the machine I’d fed it to, regretting that it was pulverized. In my haste to destroy anything to do with my father, I’d made a serious error in judgement.

  “Daniel?” Vivian’s expression was one of worry.

  “This changes nothing. You’ll be gone when I get back,” I said harshly as I shrugged on my jacket. She flinched as if I’d struck her, and my chest squeezed, unable to stand her pain. I strode past her, turning when I reached the door. She stared at me, looking lost and confused. “It’s good to know you think I’m a murderer, Vivian. Thanks for that.”

  23

  Vivian

  Present

  I should have listened to Muriella. I’d spent the last few hours in her apartment lamenting over the conversation with Daniel. She’d been level-headed and logical when it came to him and that autopsy, whereas I’d bulldozed through it straight to the wrong conclusion. I had to try to make it right.

  My feet carried me up the stairs from M’s apartment to Daniel’s door. I raised my fist to knock and then thought better of it, digging in my purse for a pen and a piece of paper. I scribbled the words ‘I’m sorry’ on it and slid the note under the door. I couldn’t stand that I’d hurt Daniel, and even if he wanted nothing to do with me, I needed to apologize.

  The elevator doors opened, and Giselle stepped out. I’d have preferred being struck in the head with a blunt object.

  “Vivian,” she said brightly, her smile so friendly that a wobbly one formed on my lips. “Daniel didn’t mention you were coming over for dinner. He’s not home yet, but if you’d like to come in…” Her offer was genuine. She took out a set of keys and opened the front door. “Vivian? Are you all right?”

  “I have to go,” I croaked, pressing the call button for the elevator, which mercifully was still there.

  I stepped inside and leaned against the side wall for support. Muriella and I were wrong. He was serious about her. She had a key to our house.

  My heart beat frantically in my chest. It was hard to breathe, but somehow I pushed air in and out of my lungs. Calm down, Vivian.

  “Why? Why the fuck should I calm down?” I asked out loud as the elevator came to a stop on the ground floor. The doors slid open, but my feet didn’t move, and Daniel stepped inside, starting when he saw me huddled in the corner.

  He stiffened, his expression turning arctic. “I told you to be gone.”

  Those words injected me with anger, and I straightened, stepping into his space. “I know what I accused—”

  “Assumed,” he interjected. Our eyes warred with one another.

  “Assumed earlier. For that, I understand why you’re upset with me. I’m sorry. I’m not going to stand here and feed you all the excuses for why I came to the conclusion I did. Regardless of how you feel about me now, I know that hurt you, and I can’t stand I did that,” I said, softening my tone.

  Daniel said nothing, an unreadable look on his face.

  “But I refuse to let you treat me as if I’m rotten garbage. You left me out of the blue. Under the circumstances, I think I’ve handled it pretty fucking well. Until you tell me exactly what happened, don’t speak to me like I’m nothing. Like we didn’t just spend nearly a decade sharing a life. Because we did. You haven’t forgotten that. You’re just really good at pretending it didn’t happen.”

  Still nothing from him.

  “So go on upstairs, but we both know, when you walk in that door, you’ll wish it was me on the other side. When she kisses you, it will be me you’re kissing. When you go to sleep, it’s me you’ll be holding in your arms.” I struggled to hold myself together as images of him with another woman pierced my mind. “I’m wrong about a lot of things, but not about us. What we have doesn’t just die. I know you feel our separation. Right here.” I put my hand on his heart, and he stopped breathing, like he did when we first met. He gripped my wrist, panic in his eyes. My pulse throbbed against his fingers. “Even if we never see each other again, it will never be over. Never.”

  I pressed a button on the panel, and the doors opened on the lobby. Daniel released my wrist abruptly, and I ignored the pain that spread across my chest. Without looking back, I exited with my head held high when all I really wanted to do was curl into a ball on the floor. Outside, I was so lost in thought from the roller coaster of the day’s events, I didn’t notice the pickup truck slow to a crawl beside me until I heard the hum of the window roll down. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head when I saw who was behind the wheel.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “Need a ride, stranger?”

  The passenger door was opened from inside, and I climbed in. “Nice choice in music,” I said. Johnny Cash blared about going down in the ring of fire. A calloused hand turned down the volume a notch. “And you’re the stranger.”

  Stone Jacobs gave me the panty-melting grin that had won over the women of the world when he flashed it on the big screen. In person, it was even more devastating. The hottest thing in Hollywood leaned over and kissed my cheek. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Vivian.” He was a native Texan, a connection that had bonded us from the start.

  “I know you haven’t been in town more than five minutes without calling us,” I scolded, and then my face fell as I realized I’d referred to me and Daniel as a couple when we no longer were.

  “Where’s the big man?” he asked casually.

  I swallowed hard, unable to mask my reaction. My heart felt like it had been punched by a fist with brass knuckle rings. “We broke up.”

  He took a few beats to just stare at me. Then he finally asked, “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered.

  Stone flipped up the center console, hooked an arm around my back, and pulled me to him, pressing my head to his chest. Underneath all that sex symbol, celebrity status was just a good old country boy, who was a decent and simple man. Daniel had met him six years ago at a poker night put on by one of the studio executives. They’d hit it off over expensive whiskey and their disdain for social functions with virtual strangers, both finding themselves at the party out of professional necessity. Whiskey was the great unifier, or at least reason enough to become friends, and Daniel invited him to our home for dinner in an unprecedented move. He’d been part of our inner circle ever since.

  Stone had been busy over the last couple of years, so we didn’t see him as often as we’d have liked. We’d gone on annual trips together, but lately his schedule was so jam-packed, he’d had to cancel. Seeing him now, it hit me how much I’d missed our friend. I hated that his crazy life had caused us to drift apart. I hoped we could rectify that situation sooner rather than later.

  “How do you feel about taking a drive?” he asked me.

  “Beats the hell out of going to an empty apartment.” He was a godsend. I needed a distraction, and a friend.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Stone said, putting the truck in gear and pulling into traffic.

  As he drove uptown for a while, I unloaded the whole depressing tale on him. As I listened to myself, I still couldn’t believe it. “It’s inconceivable to me he could have already moved on, but by all appearances he has.”

  “Nah. There’s no way in hell he’s really with this chick. He doesn’t have to say a damn word to communicate how he feels about you, V. That doesn’t just go away,” he insisted, maneuvering around Columbus Circle three times just for the hell of it.

  “I don’t know how to get him back. I can’t even get through to him.” I rolled the window down and stuck my head out, letting the cool night air hit my face. Stone used the controls on his side of the truck to begin rolling it back
up. “What are you doing?” I yelped, retracting my head inside the cab.

  “You’re polluting my truck,” he said before he grinned and powered the window back down.

  “You almost chopped my head off,” I protested dramatically.

  He ruffled my hair like I was his kid sister. “Aww, it wasn’t that close.”

  He laughed, and after a few seconds, I joined him, the sound foreign to my ears.

  “Thanks for the distraction.”

  “You’re welcome. If you figure out a way I can help, let me know.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “How’s Muriella?”

  It was dark, but I could see his eyes shining with interest. He’d never pushed her—partly because Daniel had warned him off—despite having a crush on her since the first time he’d seen her.

  “You should call her and ask yourself.”

  “I’d rather see her in person.”

  I bet you would, Cowboy. “You’ve always struck me as the kind of man who goes after what he wants. What have you been waiting on?” I asked bluntly. It was rare to have a one-on-one conversation without Daniel or Muriella around. I could have said something before—we were close enough for that—but I had been reluctant to put Muriella in that position, even if it was for her own good.

  He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “There’s no one way to draw out a skittish horse. Each one requires its own special touch.” Stone turned toward me, his expression serious. “Muriella hasn’t been ready.” I didn’t disagree, but on the other hand, he couldn’t wait forever. “If I’d forced it, I’d have lost her for good.”

  “All of that’s true. I don’t want her to get hurt—”

  “I would never hurt her,” Stone growled, teeth grinding.

  “I wasn’t insinuating you would.” I paused, trying to best explain things without taking away Muriella’s right to tell her own story. “It’s delicate.”

  “Daniel’s made that perfectly clear,” he said almost bitterly. “But I’m done waiting. There’s a time when you either take the leap or stay on solid ground and get nowhere.”